


Baked With Love

by Siancore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Baker Bucky Barnes, M/M, Musician Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson Loves Cooking, Student Sam Wilson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25895839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siancore/pseuds/Siancore
Summary: A SamBucky Bakery AU - Based on the graphic novel Bloom.Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 43
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

The joyful laughter and chatter rose high above the music as the guests of the backyard wedding danced gleefully. Bucky sat over near the wall and lifted his head to see his sister’s smiling face. Becca looked so happy as she threw her head back and then twirled around the dancefloor. He was pleased for her, and glad that she was finally getting away from their small town, but somewhere deep inside he knew what it meant for him: More time at his family’s Bakery and less of a chance of him actually leaving as well. He frowned to himself and placed his drink down on the empty chair beside him. He watched the smiling partygoers a moment longer until his vision was impeded by a man’s figure.

“Bucky, why aren’t you out there enjoying yourself?” asked his father, George. “It’s your sister’s big day and you’re sat here with a face like a cat’s ass.”

The young man rolled his eyes and said, “I just don’t feel like dancing, Dad. Kinda wanna be alone right now.”

“At a celebration?”

“Yeah.”

George shook his head and said, “I’ll never understand you young people. Today isn’t about you, but you’re making it about you.”

“I’m not doin’ anything, Dad,” Bucky retorted, feeling annoyed. “You’re makin’ it about me. Why can’t you just let me be?”

Before his father could reply, Becca was standing next to George with her hand held out to her brother.

“C’mon,” she said as Bucky took hold of her hand and then stood.

“Where’re we goin’?”

“I just need to talk to you a minute,” she said, before kissing their father on the cheek. “We’ll be back in a sec.”

Becca led Bucky up the stairs into her old bedroom and closed the door. She walked to her closet and pulled out her sneakers before sitting down, kicking off her heels, and pulling the comfortable shoes on.

“Ugh, my feet are so sore,” she sighed as she laced the sneakers. “Glad to get these off.”

“Bec, you wanted to talk?” asked Bucky as he ran his fingers through his hair.

She patted the spot on the bed beside her and Bucky took a seat.

“Can you believe it, Buck?” she asked as she nudged his shoulder with hers. “I’m a married woman.”

He smiled a genuine smile and nudged her back before saying, “I’m happy for you.”

“I know, but you couldn’t tell that from the way you were moping around down there,” she proffered. “That moody musician thing really doesn’t suit you.”

“Sorry. I was just in my own head. I’m gonna miss havin’ you around.”

“Aww, I’m gonna miss you too, Buck.”

“And Dad’s gonna be on my case a lot more now.”

“Hey, he means well, you know?”

“I know, but it’s like he doesn’t support my dreams with the band.”

“He just doesn’t understand,” said Becca as she rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. “All he’s ever known is baking and taking care of his family. He wants what’s best for us.”

“I know, I just want to get outta here so bad, y’know?”

“Yeah, but Mom and Dad are gonna need your help around here for a while,” Becca explained. “Especially with me leaving.”

“You sound like Dad.”

“Well, he’s not always _wrong_ about everything, Buck.”

“He told you to break up with Scott like five times or whatever, and now you’re married, so he’s definitely wrong sometimes.”

“Okay, smartass,” Becca said with a laugh. “All I’m sayin’ is, I’m moving out. The Bakery isn’t doin’ that great, and Mom and Dad are gonna need some help.”

“I get it, and I am helping,” said Bucky. “At least for a little while longer.”

xXxXx

One thing that Sam Wilson really loved about being back in the town where his father grew up was the abundance of fresh food. The fish markets were a literal five-minute stroll from his Gramma’s house, and the grocery stores stocked a lot of fresh, local produce. As someone who loved to cook, Sam was enjoying taking a languid walk through the store, with his shopping basket, while perusing the goods.

While it was only him staying in his family’s old house, his friends were making the trip to come and see him. He had made the decision to take time off from school to pack up his Gramma’s house after she had passed. He needed to get away from it all for a little while, so being in the town that held so many fond childhood memories for him was nice, even though it felt different without his Gramma there.

Sam was drawn from his thoughts by a loud squeal. He turned to see a woman, around his mother’s age, rushing toward him with a wide smile on her face. He did not recognize her, but she seemed to know him.

“Oh my god, Sam Wilson!” she said as she stepped into his personal space and went for a hug.

Sam stood frozen and offered a small smile.

“Hi,” he replied, not knowing what else to say.

The woman stepped back and let her eyes roam up and down Sam’s body before saying, “Look at you, all grown up.”

Her tone was quite suggestive, and Sam immediately felt uncomfortable. She reached her hand over and placed it to Sam’s bicep.

“My word, you look just like your father when we went to high school together,” said the woman as she gave Sam’s arm a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, I –”

“You don’t remember me?” she asked, with a pout and a flutter of her eye lids. “You were just a boy the last time I saw you, now look at you, looking every bit a man. Looking just like your father; goodness me, you’re built like him, too.”

Sam blinked a few times and didn’t say anything.

“What’re you doing here in town? Is your father here, too?”

“No, umm, Dad’s not uh, he’s not here. Just me. I’m packin’ Gramma’s house up.”

“Oh, so you’re here in that big house all on your own?”

“Y-yeah?”

“And you’re buying food to cook for yourself?”

“Yes, ma’am. Gotta eat.”

She dragged her eyes over his form once again and said, “Hmm, you do to keep a body like that well-fed.”

Sam did not know what else to say except to excuse himself.

“I really have to go now, but it was nice seein’ you.”

“Now hold on a minute,” she said, talking hold of his upper arm once more. “A fine-looking young man like you shouldn’t have to cook his own dinner. Why don’t I grab a bottle of wine and join you?”

“Oh, no thank you, ma’am,” said Sam as he began to back away. “That really isn’t necessary. But, uh, thanks for the offer? You have a good night.”

She looked disappointed, but ogled Sam one more time before saying, “Alright, say hello to that handsome father of yours.”

xXxXx

The alarm on Bucky’s phone sounded and he let out a groan. He did not usually have to do the early morning shifts, but since Becca had left, it was up to him. He rolled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. A quick shower would liven him up. He got ready and then made his way to the kitchen. His father was already there finishing his coffee. Father and son greeted one another, and Bucky made a beeline straight to the coffee pot.

“Ready for the day?” asked George with a smile.

“Ugh, how can you be so chipper at this ungodly hour?”

George shrugged and said, “I love what I do.”

Bucky didn’t say anything in reply. He wasn’t in the mood to bicker with his father, especially at that hour of the morning.

“Come on,” said George, taking his son’s silence as a hint that the conversation was over. “Let’s get to work.”

….

By the time a few customers started coming into the Bakery, Bucky was tired and covered in flour. They were not going to be baking anything else at that point because sales weren’t particularly great in recent times. Hardly anyone came into the shop anymore. Most of their profits were made from customers who still paid for deliveries.

“You’re back here sitting on your phone, James?” asked George. He only called Bucky James when he was annoyed with him.

Bucky removed his earbuds, lifted his gaze from his screen, and said, “Uh?”

“Your phone, you’re always on it.”

“I’m waiting for Steve to text me back,” Bucky explained. “He’s looking at apartments in the city today. Was gonna send me pics.”

“You’re still going on about moving when we need you here?”  
  
“What about what I need?” asked Bucky as he paused the video of his band’s rehearsal. “Look at this.”

He held the phone out for his father to see, put the earbud in his ear, and then pressed play. The music started and George knit his brow as he removed the earbud and handed the device back.

“Son, what is this?”

“It’s my band, Dad.”

“You’re not even the singer.”

Bucky sighed and placed the phone back in his pocket.

“That doesn’t matter. I love music, you know that. Playing in this band with Steve, T’Challa, and Okoye is important to me. We’re gonna get an apartment and move away, Dad.”

“What about helping me and your mother?”

“I am helping.”

“But you’re leaving, also.”

Bucky sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t like being at odds with his father, but he wanted to do what he loved.

“You used to love helping me out in the Bakery when you were younger. Do remember how much fun we used to have?”

“Yeah, Dad, I do. But things change. I just don’t love it like I used to. I love music. When we couldn’t afford for me to go to school to study music, I didn’t make a fuss about it. I stayed here and helped out. Playing in the band with the guys has been good for me.”

“Bucky,” said George as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Me and your mother wanted you to go to college. It broke our hearts when we didn’t have the money to send you. We do want you to do what you love, we’re just having a tough time ourselves with the Bakery.”

Bucky and George stood a moment in the quiet until Bucky spoke again.

“Dad, I get it, and I’m not upset about it. I know we didn’t have the money and I know things have been tough, but I’m still leaving when Steve finds an apartment for us.”

George let out a loud sigh and then began to walk away.

“Wait,” said Bucky, as he reached out took hold of his father’s arm gently. “What if I find someone?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“If I find someone to replace me to help you out at the Bakery,” said Bucky, his eyes lighting up at his idea. “I could find someone really good, and then you’d get the help you need, and I can still leave.”

George sighed and said, “Let’s talk about it later. You should go make your deliveries now.”

…..

Bucky placed the orders to the back of the Moped and then went to do his rounds. He enjoyed this part of working at the Bakery. He enjoyed getting out and about; feeling the wind in his hair; letting his mind go blank a moment in a welcome departure from all of the stress and worry. When he was scooting around town, he felt like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Having made the rounds, Bucky decided to take a shortcut on his way home. He rode up the small street of a residential neighborhood and some movement just ahead caught his eye. A guy, maybe a year or so older than him, was walking down a garden path carrying some trash. It was the day before the trash was to be collected, so there was nothing particularly interesting about it. Except the guy was drop-dead gorgeous.

Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the stranger, who was now looking right back at him. He didn’t know whether to smile or wave. He should have done something, other than stare at the dude like a creep. Perhaps watch where he was going, because just ahead were two trashcans full of smelly, discarded things.

Just before he was about to collide with the trashcans, Bucky regained composure and control, and straightened up. That could have been very embarrassing, he thought to himself, as he sped along home hoping the hot guy didn’t see his near-accident.

xXxXx

Misty Knight was rolling on her bed laughing as Sam shook his head and watched her through Skype. She was absolutely amused by Sam’s retelling of meeting the strange lady in the grocery store the previous evening.

“It’s not funny, Misty,” said Sam, even though he did miss his friend’s laughter.

“Sorry, Sammy,” she said while trying to recover. “It’s just typical, isn’t it? No matter where you go, someone’s hittin’ on you. Even old ass ladies in the grocery store.”

“I can’t believe my Dad knew her.”

“Can’t believe she was so shameless.”

“I know right,” said Sam as he ran his hand over his brow. “And offering to cook for me? Please, I know my way around a kitchen.”

“Oh, no, baby boy,” said Misty with a chuckle. “She wasn’t tryna cook for you, she was tryna _eat_ you.”

“God, Misty, don’t say nasty things.”

“Sorry Sammy.”

“I wouldn’t have been in that situation if you didn’t put in a request for all the things you want me to cook while you’re here.”

“True, but you know I love your cooking,” she said with a smile. “Also, Riley’s comin’.”

“What?”

“He asked if I was going to see you, and I said yes, and he asked if he could come. Is that okay?”

“You should’ve asked first, Misty. But it’s cool. We’re friends and this’ll be a good reminder for him.”

“Plus, he’s got competition from the local thirsty-over-forty-crowd.”

Sam groaned and said, “Ugh. Why do I tell you anything? Change the subject please.”

“Alright. Alright. So, does it feel weird bein’ in the house on your own?”

“Yeah, kinda,” said Sam as he rubbed his hand over the back of his head. “It’s quiet. And feels sad.”

“I’m sorry, baby boy.”

“Thanks, pretty girl,” Sam proffered with a sigh. “It’s just that the last good memory I had was at Christmas time. The house was full of family and great food. Gramma was laughin’ and smiling so much you couldn’t even tell she was sick. She let me help her in the kitchen, and she never let anybody in her kitchen.”

Sam smiled a little sadly and Misty nodded her head before saying, “It’s nice that you got your love of cooking from her.”

Sam nodded his head and then said, “Oh, that reminds me, I found Gramma’s recipe book.”

“Oh my god, Sam, really? You looked for it everywhere after the funeral. Where was it?”

“Was right there on the shelf near her spice rack, Mist, I swear.”

“You looked there!”

“I know, right!” said Sam with an excitable look on his face. “It’s like it was just sittin’ there waiting for me.”

“Did you go through it?”

“Yeah, it’s still the most gorgeous book I’ve ever seen,” said Sam nostalgically. “All of our family’s recipes handwritten by Gramma and her Mama. Then it’s got my pancake recipe she let me write down. It’s so special.”

Sam felt the tears well in his eyes as he spoke; his voice cracked a little. Misty noticed.

“Hey, so you know what you should do?” she asked.

“What?”

“You should cook one of your Gramma’s recipes,” said Misty with a smile. “It’ll make you feel better, Sammy. I know it will.”

…..

Misty was right. Sam had made a small, simple dish from his grandmother’s book. He immediately felt better. A tummy full of his Gramma’s mac and cheese always felt like a warm hug. He was going to be alright. He was.

After Sam cleaned his dishes and tidied up, he went to take the trash out front. He noticed someone flying along on a scooter. It was a young guy, probably around his age. The guy made eye contact and just kept staring at Sam, so Sam stared back, kind of entranced by the way the wind swept through his dark brown tresses.

Sam should have done something, other than stare back at the guy like some kind of creep. A wave or a smile would have done the trick. Instead, Sam was at a loss for words and actions. He almost called out when the guy nearly hit a couple of trashcans a few doors down, but he was gone before Sam could do anything. He walked back to the house wondering if he would ever see the stranger again.

xXxXx

After Bucky returned home, he parked the Moped near the Bakery and then went inside to clean up. After he was done, he locked up he made his way inside his family’s home. Dinner was already on the table and his mother, Winnie, asked if he was going to have something to eat.

“Sorry, Ma,” said Bucky with an apologetic smile. “I’m off to band practice now.”

“You can’t have a meal with your family?” George asked as he stepped into the room and sat down.

Bucky let out a sigh and said, “Music is important to me. I don’t wanna roll dough for the rest of my life.”

He knew his words hurt his father as soon as he had spoken them.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a baker,” was George’s reply.  
  
“I know,” Bucky said when he saw the hurt in his father’s eyes. “And I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that music is what I wanna do, and practice will make sure I’m good at it. I gotta go.”

“At least take a bread roll with you,” said Winnie softly.

“Thanks, Ma,” said Bucky as he inched toward the door before stopping. “I’ll make the flyers up later to advertise the position and get them posted tomorrow. It’s gonna be okay, Dad.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's friends visit him.  
> Bucky's plan looks like it may not work.  
> Then there's a meet-cute...

“Come on, Sam!” called Misty as she and Riley waited on the sofa. “How long does it take to microwave some popcorn?”

Sam rolled his eyes and shouted back from the kitchen, “I’m not microwaving it. I’m cookin’ it in a heated pan.”

Riley smiled and Misty got up from where she was seated to make her way to the kitchen of Sam’s grandmother’s house. She leaned against the doorjamb and folded her arms. Sam turned to look at her, flashing his bright smile.

“You mean to tell me you’re in here cooking the popcorn yourself?” she queried with a raised eyebrow.

Sam shrugged and replied, “Yeah, of course. It tastes better done this way. I can throw in the sea salt and add as much butter as I like. Trust me, you’re gonna love it.”

“Okay, Sammy,” she replied, pushing off the doorframe and backing away. “You’re lucky I trust you.”

…..

The movie was a quarter of the way through and Misty was begging Sam for more popcorn.

“Please, it’s so good. What’d you do to it? I knew you could cook, but damn. You’re even good at popcorn?”

Sam let out an amused laugh and took the empty bowl from his friend.

“It’s different than waiting to use one of the microwaves at the dorms,” said Sam as he sauntered into the kitchen to make some more of the snack for him and his friends. “That’s one thing I don’t miss about school: Having no place to actually cook decent meals.”

“You must be lovin’ it here, then,” said Riley.

“I am. Got the whole kitchen to myself,” said Sam with a somewhat sad little smile.

The movie was long finished, and the three friends lounged about talking.

“I’ve missed this,” Misty proffered. “Us hanging out together.”

“Me, too,” said Sam. “And I miss school, but I needed to do this. I needed to take this time off. And it’s been good. I’m gonna start looking for work, get settled in, and really make the most of it.”

“Find work?” asked Riley with a frown. “How long are you gonna be here, Sam?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, tilted his head to the side, and said, “Dunno. As long as it takes.”

“What exactly is _it_?”

“This feeling inside,” Sam tried to explain. “This feeling of being restless and not enjoying things. It’s like, after Gramma passed away, I didn’t feel the same joy for school or cooking or anything like that. I needed to come back here. I hope bein’ here can help me find the joy again, if that makes sense.”

Misty leaned her head on Sam’s shoulder and then said, “It makes perfect sense, baby boy.”

Sam placed his head against hers and smiled.

“Well,” said Misty with a yawn. “I’m gonna head off to bed.”

“You need me to show you?” asked Sam.

“Nah, I got it,” she replied, looking at him and then Riley. “You two have a good night.”

She walked away and then said, “And don’t be too noisy.”

Sam and Riley got through the first half of a well-watched sitcom before Riley spoke up.

“Sammy?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve missed you.”

Sam turned to look at his ex, proffered a gentle smile and said, “Yeah, I’ve missed you, too.”

Riley returned the grin and then leaned in. His lips came close to Sam’s just before the other man pulled away.

“Woah. Riley? What? What’re you doin’?”

“I – I thought…”

“No,” said Sam as he shifted away.

“I thought me coming here meant –”

“That we were getting back together?”

“Yeah.”

“No. That’s not it at all,” Sam explained, as he stood from where he was sitting. “Nothing’s changed. We’re not getting back together. We talked about this. It was good for a while, but I can’t deal with your clinginess and gaslighting. When I called you out on how you were acting, you blamed me, and that’s not cool. I love you, but we’re not gonna work like that.”

“I know,” said Riley, as he searched Sam’s eyes. “I just thought that with some time apart, we could make it work.”

“It’s not gonna work. You’ve got your issues, and I’ll be your friend, but that’s all I can be. And I’m not here to work out your issues for you, Riley. You understand that, right?”

Riley let his head drop and then said, “I know. I know. I just care about you.”

“And I care about you, too,” said Sam, as he sat back down. “But not like that. Not anymore. I can be your friend, but that’s it. You know that.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Riley lifted his gaze and said, “Yeah, I know. I get it. I do.”

Sam offered a nod of his head and said, “Okay.”

Riley tried to smile back at Sam as he said, softly, “Okay.”

Bucky was excited and pleased that his father had actually agreed to his proposal about hiring someone else to help out at the Bakery. They had put the adverts out and had a decent response. Presently, both father and son were interviewing those who had applied for the job. It was slow going, and, if Bucky was being completely honest, the candidates were not the best.

The first person he interviewed had no experience at all, and while George wanted to help them out with steady work, they just didn’t have the skillset he was looking for. The second interviewee said outright that they didn’t like waking up early. That would be a problem, considering a baker needed to arrive early to start baking. The third had no idea what the job entailed; they were just throwing job applications out into the universe and hoping for the best. The next asked if free pastries were part of the job. The rest were just not right, plain and simple. Bucky was disappointed and his father was tired.

As George cleared away the applications from the table in the back of the bakery. He filed them away and then returned to where his son was seated, head in his hands.

“We tried, Buck,” said George, as he placed a hand to his shoulder. “Sorry, honey. You had a good idea, it just didn’t work.”

Bucky shrugged and said, “Thanks for letting me try. I’m gonna close up and then go hang out with Steve and the guys.”

He then stood and walked out to the front of the shop to lock up.

“How am I ever gonna leave this place?” asked Bucky as T’Challa, Steve, and Okoye gave him sympathetic looks.

“It’ll happen,” said Okoye.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “We’ll find an apartment, soon, and then we’ll be outta here.”

“You know it’s not the end of the world, right?” T’Challa asked.

“I know,” Bucky replied. “I’m just ready to leave. I’m ready for all the gigs we’re gonna play. I’m ready to get out here.”

“True, but we gotta be realistic,” Steve added. “It’ll happen, but it’ll take time. There’s no need to rush.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Stevie,” Bucky replied, feeling crestfallen. “You have options. For me, it’s either stay here and make bread for the rest of my life, or finally try to make this music thing work. That’s it. That’s all I got.”

“Buck –”

“Don’t,” said Bucky as he stood to leave. “I’m gonna go home.”

With that, he made his way toward the exit.

It wasn’t too late by the time Bucky made it home. He searched his pockets for the house keys and then realised his phone wasn’t there. He cursed under his breath and then remembered that he left the device in the Bakery. Sighing loudly, Bucky made his way down to the shop.

He switched on the lights and found the device sitting atop the counter in the front of the Bakery. He leaned against the counter a beat, checked for messages, and then placed the phone securely in his pocket. Out of habit, he walked to the front door to make sure it was locked. Just then, Bucky was startled by a figure on the other side of the door. A friendly face smiled at him and then waved. Bucky vaguely recognized the young man on the other side of the glass. He unlocked the door and then peered out.

“Hey, sorry, we’re closed,” said Bucky, taking in the man’s appearance; he was possibly the cutest guy Bucky had ever seen in his life.

The guy held up a job application and said, “Sorry, but I ah, I heard there was a job going here?”

Bucky found himself staring a moment, before coming to his senses and saying, “Yeah, but uh, you’re gonna have to come back when we’re open.”

“Okay, cool,” said the stranger, flashing a bashful smile.

“Cool,” Bucky replied, at a loss for words and completely struck by the gorgeous face staring back at him.

“I’m Sam, by the way,” the other young man said. “I think I saw you the other day on your scooter.”

Bucky smiled coyly and ran his hand through his hair, “Yeah, that was me. I uh noticed you, too.”

“Cool, well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, man. Tomorrow.”

The pair held one another’s gaze a moment longer as Sam began to back away.

“Wait!” Bucky called out, stopping Sam in his tracks.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, placing his free hand in his pocket.

Bucky cleared his throat and then asked, “Why do you want this job?”

Sam’s face lit up at the question and Bucky thought his heart had stopped beating.

“I just really love to cook,” Sam explained. “Baking especially. I’m going to culinary school, actually; that’s how much I love it. I’m taking a break to sort some things out right now. But I want this job because I can do something I love while I figure things out.”

Bucky gave him a gentle smile and said, “Hey, that’s really nice. We could use someone like you. I mean, it ain’t up to me, but you’re already like a hundred times better than the other applicants.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dude,” said Bucky as he marvelled at Sam’s pretty brown eyes. “Come back first thing tomorrow and we’ll see what happens.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate the chance. See you tomorrow,” said Sam as he flashed a bright beam at the other man.

“Yeah,” said Bucky as his tummy did a hundred little flips at the sight of Sam’s smile. “See you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for those who read and commented.  
> Happy Sam Wilson Sunday!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for missing the update last Sunday. I thought I had edited this chapter, and I came to realise that I hadn’t. Thanks to everyone for the great feedback. I’m glad you’re all enjoying this. This shows us more of Bucky’s POV.

George Barnes seemed like a fair man, Sam thought, as he, George, and Bucky sat at a small round table in the older man’s quaint office. George looked over Sam’s printed transcripts from culinary school. He saw that Sam was a diligent student. That he was a hard worker. George was impressed by the young man just by what was on paper alone, so he decided to begin his line of questioning with why Sam wanted the position.

“I know ours is a small town, and the fact that the supermarket sells bread at a lower price to us means our business hasn’t been the best in recent times, so Sam, please tell me why you want this job and why you want to work here.”

“Firstly, thank you for the opportunity to show you why I’m the person for this job,” said Sam as he gave both father and son a warm, grateful beam. “I can appreciate what the supermarket means to small business in a small town. I can also appreciate what it means to find and hold down a job in a small town. I want this job, sir. You can see from my transcripts that I’m focused and I work hard. I do what I say I’ll do, and I do it without any fuss. But it’s more than that. I also _love_ cooking. _I love baking._ It’s something that I’m passionate about professionally, and in my own personal life. My Gramma passed away not too long ago, and that’s what has brought me back here. I thought it would just be me taking it easy while I packed up her house, but being in her house reminded me of how much she loved bein’ in her kitchen. It reminded me of how much _I_ loved bein’ in her kitchen. So, this position opening up is like a godsend for me. I get the chance to do something I honestly love, and everyone deserves to do what they love.”

Bucky listened to Sam’s smooth, rich voice intently. He was captivated by the way all of the love of cooking came through in Sam’s cadence. He was somewhat mesmerized by the other young man. Bucky mused that he could listen to him speak all day.

George nodded his head in understanding as Sam continued.

“I can tell that your Bakery is more to you than just a business,” said Sam with a gentle smile. “It’s a labor of love for you. I would be honored for you to entrust me with even a small part of it. It would be an honor to learn from you.”

George gave Sam a smile and then said, “That’s a very nice answer. Thank you. I think I have everything I need to make my decision, but before my son and I talk it through, was there anything you wanted to ask us?”

Sam contemplated a moment before saying, “Sir, may I ask why the position is open?”

George looked to Bucky, who was now suddenly interested in staring at Sam’s credentials on the tabletop.

“Of course,” George replied. “I think it’s best that my son explains that. Bucky?”

Bucky cleared his throat and then looked up at Sam. Gosh, he could barely focus when his eyes met the depth and warmth of Sam’s. He felt kind of guilty having to explain to the guy who had just said such nice things about his family’s business, and his father, that the reason the position was open was because he couldn’t wait to leave it all behind. Bucky pushed the guilt aside, lifted his chin, and answered honestly.

…..

By the time Bucky emerged from the back of the Bakery, covered in flour and carrying a tray of freshly baked pastries, Sam Wilson was in the office signing a stack of papers: He got the job. He and Bucky shared a quick smile before George called Bucky over.

“Congratulations,” Bucky said warmly.

“Thanks, man,” Sam replied, his face alight with that gorgeous smile that did things to Bucky tummy.

“Sam’s going to help out in the front for the rest of the day,” said George as he clapped Sam on the back. “Then he’ll start in the back first thing tomorrow.”

Both men nodded as George continued to speak, this time directing his words at Sam.

“Bucky’ll be here to show you around the ovens and get you settled in, right Buck?”

“Sure thing,” he proffered with a smile. “It’s not much different to what you’re probably used to, except the stovetop, which we never really use, but I’ll get to that tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” said Sam.

“Don’t even mention it,” Bucky replied. “I’m glad you’re on board.”

Sam smiled and said, “Me, too.”

xXxXx

“That’s great news,” said T’Challa to Bucky upon hearing the news about the Bakery’s new hire.

Bucky leaned against the fence out back and breathed in the crisp air as he spoke into his phone.

“It’s awesome,” he replied with a smile. “I’ll have time to look at apartments this weekend with you guys.”

There was silence on the line a beat and Bucky noticed.

“What?” he asked. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” T’Challa replied. “It’s just – nah, look, it’s not for me to tell.”

“Dude, you can’t say that and then not explain. What’s goin’ on.”

“Fine, but you didn’t hear it from me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I think Steve and Okoye are, _y’know_.”

“No, I don’t know. They’re what?”

“I think they’re seeing one another.”

“What? No way. They’d tell us, wouldn’t they?”

“I don’t know, Buck. She’s very private.”

“Yeah, but, why would you think that? Did they say something? Did you see something?”

“I kind of walked in and they seemed to be having a moment.”

“What does that even mean?”

“You know, a _moment_.”

“Right, so what does it mean for the band?”

“Nothing, well at least not for now,” said T’Challa. “But the living arrangements are another story.”

“We’re all friends. We all agreed to get the apartment. Surely that’s not gonna change because they may or may not be seein’ each other?”

“True, but people need space to themselves when they’re figuring things out with new relationships. I’m just saying, be prepared for them to say they want their own space.”

“How are we – how am _I_ gonna be able to afford to move if we don’t all share?”

“I don’t know,” said T’Challa. “But we’re not even there yet. Maybe I’m just seeing things that aren’t there. We don’t know for sure that there’s anything going on. As of right now, the plan to get the apartment together is still on. Don’t stress about it, Buck.”

Bucky felt a headache setting in just as his father called from the back of the Bakery, “Bucky. Get off the phone now and help close up.”

“I have to go,” he said flatly to T’Challa. “I’ll text you later.”

With that, they bid each other goodbye and Bucky trudged into the shop.

xXxXx

Sam’s first day had gone well. While he didn’t get to bake anything, he did get to meet the customers. Things were a little slow toward the afternoon, but the mornings were lively, and lunchtime was the busiest. George and Winnie were really nice, and Bucky, while he didn’t see much of him, seemed like an okay dude. It was not lost on Sam how good-looking Bucky was, either.

Just then, the young man whom he was presently thinking of walked into the shop holding a broom and dustpan. Sam gave him a smile, but Bucky didn’t make eye contact. He said nothing. Just stomped over to the door, turned the sign over so that it read ‘closed’, and began to sweep.

 _Okay_ , thought Sam as he wiped down the display cabinets. Bucky seemed to be in a foul mood.

“Hey, man, everything alright?” asked Sam.

Bucky kept sweeping but lifted his gaze to where the other man was standing with a spray bottle and cloth in his hands.

“Leave that.”

Sam furrowed his brow and asked, “Sorry?”

“The cleaning,” said Bucky with a frown on his face and an annoyed tone of voice. “Leave it to me. You should take off home and let me do it seein’ as I’m probably gonna be stuck doing it for the rest of my life.”

Sam had no idea what was going on, so he tried to be helpful.

“It’s cool, I don’t mind,” Sam proffered in earnest.

Bucky sighed loudly and remarked, “You already got the job, dude, you want a gold star, too?”

“What? No, I –”

“Just go, please,” said Bucky, as he continued to sweep. “I’ll lock up.”

“Okay,” said Sam in a quiet voice. He had no idea what had happened to put Bucky in a bad mood, but he was not going to stick around and exacerbate it. “See you in the morning?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, keeping his eyes on the floor as Sam passed him. “See ya.”

xXxXx

Bucky: Hey man. We still on for apartment hunting this weekend?

Bucky: My dad hired this new guy so my weekend is totally free. Can drive up with you guys. Just let me know if we’re still going.

Bucky: Also are we practicing later???

Steve: I’ll let you know.

Bucky: About the trip up to the city or about practice?

Steve: Both

Bucky: Ok

xXxXx

When Bucky arrived at band practice, his bandmates were lounging around looking quite relaxed. T’Challa was seated on Steve’s sofa playing a video game while Okoye was at the table scribbling in her notebook. Steve was hovering nearby, watching over her shoulder.

“Hey, Barnes,” T’Challa greeted, not dragging his eyes away from the screen.

“Hi,” said Okoye.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve proffered.

Bucky placed his guitar case down and replied with a strained, “Hey.”

No one made a move to get their instruments, except Bucky. He took his guitar out and made sure it was tuned. He then looked around: T’Challa was still playing the game and Steve and Okoye were still engrossed in what she was writing.

“So?” said Bucky, as he leaned the instrument against the armchair and placed his hands on his hips before looking around. “We gonna practice or not?”

“There’s no rush,” Steve replied, finally looking up and meeting his gaze.

“Dude, I don’t have a lot of spare time,” Bucky reminded Steve. “So, if we’re gonna practice, then let’s do it.”

“Dude,” Steve replied as he placed his hands in his pocket and straightened his stance. “It’s okay to skip once in a while.”

“No it’s _not_ okay,” Bucky retorted, growing annoyed with how blasé everyone was being. “Practice is meant to be practice. Not sitting around doin’ nothing.”

T’Challa nodded and saved his game before saying, “Sorry, Bucky.”

“No, T, it’s fine,” said Steve as he glared at Bucky. “Don’t stop your game. We’re just hanging out, Bucky. That’s what I said when I sent you the message. Just hanging out. No practice, just friends spending time together. It’s like you don’t even wanna do that with us anymore, everything is about the band and practice. You need to chill.”

Bucky let out a loud sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Are we even a band anymore? Because this,” he said while gesturing between them. “This doesn’t feel like we are a band anymore. We haven’t had practice in so long, so I gotta ask again: Are we even a band anymore?”

Steve and Okoye glanced at one another and she gave him a look that said _you handle this._

“Buck, we’re just having a break today, we’re –”

“This is BS,” said Bucky, as he began to pack his guitar away.

“Buck.”

“Don’t, Steve. Just because all of you can sit around and take breaks whenever you like. I _have_ to work. I have to work hard at this music thing. I don’t have the luxury of doing nothing. So, while this ain’t a big deal for you, it is for me and you don’t have to be assholes about it.”

With that, Bucky picked up his instrument and left. He was on the verge of tears until he made it back to his home. He found the plate of food his mother had left for him, took it to his bedroom, and ate on his own. He felt terribly alone. He figured he should not waste anymore energy on feeling bad for himself, after all, he had an early start in the morning.

xXxXx

When Sam arrived at the Bakery, Bucky was already there feeding the sourdough starter. Sam watched as he stirred the mixture carefully a moment, before greeting him amicably.

“Good morning,” said Sam, as he went to the small basin near the entrance to wash his hands.

“Hey,” said Bucky, lifting his head to look at Sam and giving him an apologetic, almost bashful smile.

“Hey,” said Sam as he dried his hands with the paper towels he tore from the wall dispenser.

“Sam, I just wanted to apologize for how I acted. It wasn’t cool. I’m really sorry I was a dick to you yesterday,” Bucky proffered sincerely. “I was pissed off at my friends and I took it out on you. That’s not cool. You didn’t deserve that.”

Sam nodded his head and said, “No, I didn’t. But I accept your apology. We all have shitty days.”

Bucky acknowledged what Sam had said with a dip of his own head. A beat of silence passed between them as Bucky placed the lid back on the container which housed his father’s sourdough starter.

“Is everything okay with your friends?” Sam queried with genuine concern; he didn’t know Bucky all that well, but he did want to make sure he was alright. It was in Sam’s nature to care about what other people were going through.

Bucky leaned back against the stainless-steel counter and folded his arms before shrugging.

“It’s just this music thing,” he replied.

“Your band?”

“Yeah, I just don’t know if there’s even a band anymore,” he explained. “One of my friends thinks two of our friends might be seein’ one another.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No, not at all,” said Bucky with a sigh. “I’m happy for them, if they are, it’s just my friend T’Challa thinks it could mean our living arrangements will change.”

“When you move to the city?”

“Right. I can’t afford to live there on my own. If Steve and Okoye are together, they probably won’t want me and T’Challa around gettin’ in their way while they figure their relationship stuff out. My friends have a lot more options and choice than I do. I guess I just feel like I’m being left outta the loop.”

“You don’t know for sure, though,” said Sam encouragingly.

“True, but it’s not just that,” Bucky added. “I’m the only one who ever wants to practice. It’s like my friends don’t care about the band anymore. They want to get outta here as much as I do, maybe, but they have other things they can do besides music. For me, it’s either music or baking and I don’t want to keep baking for the rest of my life.”

Sam nodded his head in understanding and said, with a gentle smile, “I hope it all works out for you, Bucky. Everyone deserves to do something that makes them happy.”

“Thanks,” said Bucky mirroring Sam’s smile. “Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. And thanks for being so cool, even though I was a complete asshole. Again, I’m really sorry. You seem like an awesome person, Sam.”

Sam smiled shyly and then dipped his gaze bashfully, “Thanks, so do you.”

xXxXx

Bucky was not sure if it was the abrasive light from his phone, in the otherwise darkened room, or the fact that his friends were not replying to him, that made his head hurt and his eyes sting. He wanted to apologize for being so short with them, but no one was answering calls and responding to texts. Bucky sighed. It served him right for being a self-centered asshole.

He scrolled through his phone to see if he was again being left on read when he noticed the message thread between himself and Sam Wilson. Bucky had to text him the security passcode for the Bakery, so they had one another’s numbers. He opened the thread and wondered if he should say _hello._

It was close to ten o’clock and it was probably inappropriate to text someone who had just started working for his family’s business, but Sam seemed like a really nice person. He and Bucky had had easy conversations all day. And Bucky admitted to himself that he found Sam unbelievably attractive. He had the prettiest eyes Bucky had ever seen. His smile was so lovely it made Bucky feel weak and warm all at once.

Before Bucky could stop himself, he sent a message to Sam.

Bucky: Hey. You up?

 _Shit. Shit! Why’d you do that, Barnes?_ _Why?_ He felt a sense of regret and dread wash over him. Then, his stomach dropped when a reply came through.

Sam: Hey. Yeah. What’s up?

_Shitshitshitshitshit!_

Bucky panicked. Sam wasn’t his friend. Sam was some absolutely gorgeous guy whom he worked with. Someone who he had just met. Someone who he was attracted to, and had no right being attracted to. It was a bad idea. A very bad idea to be texting him late at night. Bad and kind of creepy.

Bucky: Not a whole lot.

 _Except me being a creep,_ Bucky thought.

Sam: Everything OK?

Bucky: Yeah. Everything’s great. I just forgot to ask you something before we closed up

Sam: Oh. OK. What did you need to ask?

_Are you single? Do you like guys? Did you want to hang out sometime outside of work?_

He sighed and typed his answer.

Bucky: Did you want to feed the sourdough starter tomorrow?

He hit send and then dropped his phone down on the bed before silently reprimanding himself.

A moment later, a reply came through and Bucky reached to grab the phone quicker than he would like to admit.

Sam: Sure! That’d be great. Can you show me? I’ve never done it before. You look like you know what you’re doing.

The response was about sourdough, yet it made Bucky’s face grown warm and his tummy do a hundred flips. He smiled at his screen before typing a response to Sam.

Bucky: I’d love to show you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking this out. 
> 
> Next Chappie: A Meet-Cute.


End file.
